Don't look back in anger
by CollinchWe
Summary: Right after the people of Midgar are healed from Geostigma, Tifa makes her way home alone without a word and avoids conversation. But it didn't last long as Seventh Heaven turns into a partying ground which leads to her having conversations with Cloud, which will determine how their lives would unfold from thereon.


You could call it a celebration of some sort as there were drinks to make the guests intoxicated, wildly clattering around the bar causing much of disorder and behaving like loose pile of dirt getting on her tender nerves. Unfazed to participate, Tifa remained where she was- sitting at the table adjoined to the window- and peered outside slowly following the silhouettes of passersby with her eyes and catching glints of kerosene lamps on the neighboring windows, wistfully burning.

She sneered at the sight of them; were they celebrating or just tormented with insomnia? At that moment, they made her queasy though ironically, just weeks ago these lamps had provided her comfort in those forlorn and sleepless wee hours, as the cold and silence kept her mind alarmed and unassertive. Shifting her attention back indoors, she made a quick reconnaissance of her surrounding and realised the bar was twice as crowded since her mind had left it.

The too huge a company made her feel asphyxiated and unusually light-bodied, even more so when she could no longer see her friends in proximity except for Yuffie who was enjoying the attention of the amused patrons, whom she was demonstrating her concoctions of alcoholic elixirs to. _Patrons w_ ho seemed to have been fully healed of Geostigma and all of the pain associated with it, showed no signs of slowing down even as the night thickened.

 _Oh, Yuffie..._ she called in her heart, while praying the something of bright purplish viscous liquid bubbling out of the cocktail shaker was...not fatal. She had to remind herself that she was still the main proprietor of the business and that if she did not take over soon, _someone_ who was unlucky enough, _might_ die at this rate. She sniffed in the strange odour seeping through the space, smelling first like something sweet and then sourish and then… _is someone's hair burning?_

 _Darn it._

Tifa stomped her way through the wild and intoxicated mob gathered around the bar counter, only to find two of Shinra's Turks, Cid and _Reeve?_ amongst the others occupying the seats. She stared at their wretched backs as they cheered and jeered, each time Yuffie got bolder and bolder with her pernicious concoctions, who then poured it out into one of the glasses arrayed behind the counter. Raising it in the air, she shouted for "chivalrous" volunteers who would it drink it up which turned her audience even wilder as each of them tried to sabotage the persons next to them. They began to shove each other to the front and while Tifa being inevitably surrounded, was pushed forcefully in between Reno and Cid, her head jerking over the counter so that she could see clearly of whatever was brewing (or smouldering) behind it. The smell of burning hair assaulted her olfactory systems so strongly that it went up to her eyes with almost blinding effect, taking her some time to recollect herself.

"Hey, chill yo! You okay there, pretty lady?" A familiar husky voice called her, a hand rested on her left shoulder. _Urgh_ …. _Freaking Turks…_

Cid was laughing on her right, shoved the hand and grabbed her arms so that she was standing upright again. "I was just drinkin' when this female nutcase be mixin' stuff from ya invent'ry. Ya need me to chase 'er away fer ya?"

Immediately she heard the redhead on her left whining. "Just one more round, please? Rufus thrown us in a mission right 'round the corner," Reno jumped off his seat, facing her with one arm on his hips. His wide grin returned as he averted his attention back to Yuffie who seemed to have found a sacrifice to test her new mixture. "I mean, look at her, she's sensational!" Sticking out a thumb at her direction.

"Shut up, Reno. Whatever's Rufus put you in, I hope it's not more than just plucking flowers in the garden. Otherwise not even Rufus' ass will be spared, you hear me? Now, door's that way," Tifa remarked impatiently, then leaned over to look at the man behind him, who flinched in his seat conspicuously avoiding eye contact with her, but otherwise remained where he was as if reluctant to leave. _This is madness!_

Rude, she recalled his name, was the first and only Turk who had harmed her the least. Almost like as if it happened only because he did not want to be arraigned for treason. Well, a Turk was still a Turk and shouldn't be trusted unless your life depended on it and she realised how that sucked. And she had had enough of them.

"No shit," Reno snickered, bending backwards slightly to nudge Rude with his elbow, "Wasn't it the 2 awesome Turks that brought them back alllll the way _here_ when they almost died? Geez, if you'd ask me, I'd rather carry ten fat ass Chocobos any day..."

Tifa sighed and shook her head dismissively, trying to find the non-existent strength to quibble. On Cid's right, she noticed Reeve was approaching them, smiling too brightly for a post-calamity survivor. "Tifa Lockhart, you look very tensed. This is a celebration for all of us! For you, especially." He did not look drunk, but yet something about him was off and unguarded. His tone was still imbued with his usual Reeve-like puritanical fervour, but less stringent. _Seriously, Reeve?_

"Speaking to you, reminds me. Where's our Cloud Strife, Tifa?"

"No idea." She replied curtly, turning away from him grimly.

"Right." He laughed, staggering back to his seat and suddenly making cat sounds in his attempt to find Cait Sith, she presumed. It was not everyday she could witness Reeve being an idiot.

She took a deep breath then a big step towards Reno, slammed her hand on the counter and leaned forward till the tips of their noses were almost touching, shoving him off his seat. "You hear that, Turk? This celebration's especially for me. So get off."

"Tsk." Reno made a infuriated sound with his tongue, "don't recall you being hot in the head." He got off defeatedly only to settle at the seat at the far end of the counter, yelling for refills at Yuffie, while Rude shouted at him somewhere along the line of ' _You blushed, loser'._

Cid smirked proudly at her as she took over the seat next to him, regarded her by raising his glass before gulping down its entire content in a single shot. She could tell from a side glance that he was not doing that bad. At least, not heavily injured from fighting off Bahamut that one of the Remnants had conjured. After all, they had considered it their fight until Sephiroth. She could have taken on Kadaj if she had been confronted with that reality, despite almost dying at the hands of the lesser of them, Loz. What she wouldn't do for the Planet?

"Imma only 'ere coz the kiddos' room got too fuckin' cramped that even a goddamn dead body'd complain if ya toss 'im inside." Cid said, sneering. "Startin' ter smell like ole' man's fart."

"What- don't tell me the rest are in there?" Tifa almost choked in disbelief, sliding one hand off her face, slowly. It was one Cloud's habits that she had picked up when he's frustrated or outraged because somehow it helped to ignore the situation till it became inevitable.

" _Yuffie….please stop…"_ She was pretty sure she had said it. _Why are my words echoing in my own head? How long have I been here?_

" _...he's almost like a vampire but too useless to call him one- acts like he's cool when he's realllyyyy soft."_ Yuffie's drunken voice rang in her head. _Who's she talking to? Can't she hear me..?_

" _-ugly black pyjamas he's worn for 30 years, mind you."_

" _Yuffie…."_

To her dismay, the 'party' went on, and each hour that elapsed made her age 10 years more. _A little bit of protest will help, Tifa…. Did someone planted a rock on my head or something…?_ She attempted to call out Yuffie again, but considering the network between her voice and Yuffie's eardrums was out of service, she turned to Cid instead who was surprisingly still sober. Well, enough.

"Cid...please, make her stop…"

Sensing and sympathising her escalated tension, Cid stood up and proffered assistance to chase out the crowd out of Seventh Heaven, suspending Yuffie of her notorious activities. Tifa was too grateful that she didn't even mind him stomping over her bar counter with his putrid shoes (probably covered in Chocobo's droppings and whatnots from the look and smell), continuously haranguing the bar's closure, like some terrorist minion.

"-asses off the seats and feet off Seventh Heaven in 30 seconds before I blast off any of ya to heaven fer real!"

In less than what it seemed like few minutes, the bar became significantly quieter, with the main noises coming from the clamouring and chattering of the patrons who were exiting the bar. No one was allowed to linger as Cid would shoo them away with his combat lances. Rude was lifting Reno, who got too drunk from drinking a hard liquor poured by Yuffie as she mistook it for some less harsh one, so that he arched over Rude's shoulders, drooling away and muttering incoherently.

She managed a smile at Rude, who flushed instantly but returned her a friendly wave and started for the door in heavy steps. Reeve tailed behind them after saying his farewell. "I'll see you and Cloud around some time." He swayed sideways drunkenly. "I'll be glad to help with anything."

"Okay. Thanks, Reeve." Help? They didn't really get much help, but it was heartening notwithstanding that someone actually cared.

Meanwhile, Cid had settled on one of the long cushioned seats behind the dining tables, his boots carelessly tossed on the floor and swearing to himself before his raucous snore rattled the stillness in the air. And Yuffie… _Shit, Yuffie._ Tifa pried towards the back of the counter and found a petite figure splayed on the floor in deep slumber.

"Vin-cent...you'reee...sooo...ug-lyyy….omgfffaakksks…"

Tifa chuckled, as she imagined Vincent telling her that she was uglier, with face devoid of any mortal emotion, initiating the vicious cycle; they had been at it, ever since _forever._ And as if on cue, she heard footsteps descending from the bedrooms, a swish of red cape appeared at the staircase, followed by a tall, dark man with fire gun installed to one arm and a talking dog-wolf with striking red-orange fur. Altogether, they bore petrified expressions (Vincent frozen as if he had stepped on an explosive mine; Barret and Red XIII just gaped) upon witnessing the cluttered mess the bar was in which she had briefly been amnesiac about had it not been for all the distractions.

"Cloud's putting the kids to sleep. You should call it a day too." Red XIII or his real name, Nanaki, told her in a low voice with some apparent guilt in it. "We'll clean up this place."

 _Well, that's a first._ She rolled her eyes. "Uhuh.."

Barret looked around, scratching his head and returned her gaze wearily. "Nah… Imma beaten' up fer now. O' just look at tha' sonofabitch all peaceful, sleepin' 'round heaps of garbage." He peered at Cid, quirking an eyebrow. "But 'tats what he is- garbage!" He laughed boisterously which provided Tifa the perk up she needed, her head cleared up. She smirked at the irony of their relationships and pondered if fate was just a question or test of humor?

"It's fine, Red. We'll fix this tomorrow." Tifa stated languidly. "I don't think I can sleep yet."

"Alright, but don't stay up too late. Cloud will worry." Red XIII said to her as he started at the table area where Cid was, joining him in his slumber instantly.

 _Cloud, huh…_

On a normal day, she would have cared. The mess, the meals, the stock-ups and other stuff that would make her work without a care if her legs or arms were exhausted. But just tonight, she wanted to forget those things even though the hardworking Nibelheim girl; the kick-ass AVALANCHE fighter in her balked for her to regain control. However, it didn't seem sensible to resist the celebratory mood, considering how grateful she was that most of her beloved people and things were still apiece. Even Barret…. As his footsteps approached her and finally sitting next to her. She could smell the lingering stench of dried liquor on him, and wondered how many bottles he had chugged from her inventory though she couldn't make herself care more than she wished to be. In fact, she had not dared to check ever since the crowd had bolted in, as they wrecked the assets off her shelves and cabinets. Indeed she was too grateful to have been alive at the moment to even be infuriated. Maybe she might be, tomorrow, or the next or the next.

"I see tha' ninja ass gal wiped off ya bar clean " He sneered, reaching for the bottle of liquor she had been filling her glass from. She replied silently with a smirk. "What's the deal with ya at the church?"

She slowly spun two fingers around each other, indolently hunching over as if his question bored her. Because there _was_ something up with her that she had left the others behind at the church and made her way home on foot alone, not talking to anyone after that (until Yuffie made a complete mess in her bar). She was not going to let any of creeping insecurities divulged, despite a confidant at her disposal.

Instead, she pulled a nonplussed expression. "I don't get you."

Barret sighed staring at his drink with a thoughtful yet worried look, as she feigned ignorance. Meanwhile, a shuffling noise came from the end of the bar- Vincent had found a spot and was gradually closing his eyes as silent as the breeze, relieving himself of worldly troubles. He was so much like Cloud and not; both a human and not.

"Right." Barret muttered under his breath. "Ya keepin' quiet all a sudden. Don't think I ain't got no clue. It's Spikey ain't it?"

 _That's right, it's Chocobo head._ "What about him?" She scoffed.

"I don't know, man. I don't wanna be involved in yer fluffy mushy matters, but-"

"-it's not mushy- or fluffy. It's nothing like that… it's just…"

She felt Barret shrugged beside her, shaking his head disapproving of her words. "Like I said, ya'll so complex and ya boggle me. I mean, I woulda land a foot in that scrawny ass of his, but he seem a better dad than I am… and guy's almost died. They say if ya can't forgive a bad man, ya coulda at least forgive a dyin' man. "

"Who said that? It's horrible." Tifa twitched her mouth, disconcerting despite having the flutters in her guts at Barret's praising Cloud of such thing.

"Shut up." Barret chided and both of them laughed at this. Just then, the stairs rattled with the sound of heavy boots descending, attempting to be as quiet as possible. Clad in a pristine white T-shirt, Cloud appeared before them, looking lax as ever, his Mako eyes glistening in the dimly lit bar. He gazed at the both of them quiescently, twitched a terse smile and then began to pick up the strewn thrash on the floor into a large plastic bag, which triggered an instant protest from Tifa.

"Cloud! Leave it. We'll clean up tomorrow. Okay?" There was slight guilt in her, for allowing herself be _lazy,_ now that she was seeing him not yielding to any mortal fatigue despite having all the reasons to. She wearily worried herself if the wound on his chest would burst out of nowhere.

"It's fine, Tifa. Just a little bit around this area. Barret, where are you going to sleep?" His calm voice made her heart quiver. Even Barret was taken aback at the sudden mention of his name.

"Uh, Imma be near Marlene." He answered. "Well, Imma go crash in now. Good night." He hurriedly gulped his last shot, hugged Tifa and patted Cloud's back before disappearing upstairs like a Chocobo that caught fire on its backside. In the meantime, Cloud had quickly gathered a bag full of thrash, and was still in motion of picking up the rest as he watched Barret left.

"What's his problem?" He asked, to which Tifa just shrugged and spun her chair around, her back facing him. The silence that filled the space (other than Cid snoring) was awkwardly painful, but did not last long before she heard him cautiously putting away the trash bag, scowling at Yuffie when he found her on the floor, stepping over her to wash his hands in the sink and finally sitting next to her. His perpetually stoic temperament made it hard for anyone to decipher his thoughts and feelings, but this was _her_ Cloud. She knew him- albeit not completely- but his facades were no mystics to her and that he was _here_ to apologize; or at least _trying_ to. She could tell not from the unyielding behavior towards his need to rest just to accompany her, but it was from those wide, troubled eyes, scrunched eyebrows and faltering assertiveness in his voice.

He filled up a glass and took a swig, leaning on the counter and scowling again as he caught the sight of Yuffie squirming on the floor as she slept on. He had no actual words of what to say to Tifa, but intuitively he knew that he needed her presence to regain his sanity from all the events that had taken place. In fact, if anything propped up in his head, he would at least have a chance to talk to her. He felt stupid and terribly amused at how continuously speechless he could be, even in crucial moments like these. But it won't do. Because he had sworn that tonight was going to be different; he was resolved to break the norm of Tifa always being the one to break the silence. He might be impeded of words midway, but there were days he had been through worst.

"Tifa," he called out to her coyly. She turned her head slightly, but did not look at him. "Are you angry with me?"

He had worried about it- about what to say and do- since she had left the church by herself after witnessing the congregation healed from Geostigma without a word. Because going back home meant going back to her. And if he was, he needed her to be reconciled with this fact- for all he knew, she might not even stand the sight of him.

"That depends." She said calmly. "For treating me like a stranger by shutting me out, keeping important things from me, almost abandoning the kids for the _Turks_ to rescue them and thinking of dying alone in that decrepit church? Yes." Her eyes were glistening with rebellious tears as they fixed on his glowing Mako ones. She was a strong, beautiful woman- stronger than him. But those eyes that he had seen… he hoped that he wouldn't be the reason for her shedding them.

"I thought you'd be angry with me for leaving…" his voice trailed off.

"No, Cloud."

She made an abrupt stretching of her back, lifting her arms above her head and clumsily placing back them on the counter. "We ought to get chairs with a backrest. I'm aching everywhere." She stated out of the blue and continued, fixing her gaze on him again. "I was at first when you left. But it could've been me. And it if had, I could've dealt with it the same way you did." She paused, before hesitantly continuing. "Only difference is...you might've have just let me have it that way."

 _What is she- I'll what…?_

He stared through her as if raging to burn holes on the wall behind her. Now that the idea of her death struck him as an utterly unacceptable reality, he started to reflect on his attitude when she tried hard to motivate him not to give up, how she had told him off unreservedly in front of the Turks like a kid. No, like how an _asshole_ should be told.

"But mostly now, I'm just still angry at myself. For the too few roles I've been involved to help you." She sneered, hanging her head low so that her hair obscured her face. "Who am I to be angry, Cloud? If only Aerith was here, she could've done more-."

"-you're wrong." He cut her off through his teeth, exasperation taking over his cool. _She_ was supposed to be angry with him, not the other way round, he had to remind himself. "Don't be like me and use Aerith as an excuse. You've done so much for all of us, Tif." He paused, reading her face intently that she flinched. He could preach all of her deeds till morning broke, but thought the better of it. Could words ever be enough? How could a man ever immaculately manoeuvre such impalpability within his soul without tearing it apart? He was a rogue in the game with too many wild cards thrown on the table.

"Tifa, I-"

In the midst of it all, Cid let out a single outburst of racketing snore, which made him swore subconsciously sliding a hand down his face. It topped the list of his most hated sounds and he had had enough. He stood up hurriedly and left his seat towards the stairs only to appear again seconds later with a heap of leather fabric folded around his arm while Tifa only glared silently.

"I'm leaving." He told her.

She didn't react, as if already expecting his impending departure all the while. _It didn't matter in the end… he's going to leave anyway…_ she thought. She had poised herself all day for this, but her voice betrayed her as it trembled when she spoke. "Are-are you coming back...?"

"Depends." He replied swiftly almost thoughtlessly, jerking wild flowing tears out of her despite fighting demons to keep them. She didn't imagine that he _could_ be this cold.

"I can't stand this place." He nodded impatiently at Cid, and threw one of the fabric he had been holding at her, which turned out to be their own jackets. After all, the night was still stinging in raw coldness from the healing rain. "Come on, before they can catch us."

 _Who-where-_ _Is this my jacket? Did Cloud just-_ She thought haphazardly while recollecting her composure. She vacillated for a while, her mind discombobulated as if experiencing an awakening from a stupor. "W-what do I do with this?" She asked meekly in regard to her current state to which he gave her a typical dismayed look whenever he had forgotten something important. He strode towards her, wiped away her tears and helped her with the jacket.

"You're such a mess," his face softened, "you really can't afford to be like me," he tried to humor her. It came across as a normal thing of him taking care of her like this, but she refused and refrained herself from delving too deep into the emotional aspects. Doing what she'd do best, Tifa returned his remarks with an acute stare and a knee jab to his groin.

"Oooof! What-"

"Don't you do that again, Strife!"

"Do wha- Wait, what did you call me?" He scoffed, fiercely scowling. It was not the first time she had done it out of spite, and that was two long years ago.

"Where are you taking me?" She heaved a sigh exasperatingly, arms folded against her chest. Wincing through the agitation, he managed to produce a crooked yet smug smile as he mentioned the two words that profited the brightest smile from her yet. "The church."

"Then lead the way, Strife." Tifa extended an arm.

"You've go to stop…" He clenched his jaws, his tone foreshadowing. She knew he hated it; didn't know exactly why, but he hated it.

"Too backwater? Then call me Lockhart."

"Just stop it, okay?" He gave a playful yet rough push on her back that made her trip forward a little. He caught her by the hand and led her towards the garage unapologetically, as she unrepentantly sniggered with uncanny rejoice of teasing him.

They might have stirred some noise, but she didn't care if anyone had caught their rendezvous endeavour as much as she was cynically thrilled by the cacophony of Fenrir's engine echoing against the night's tranquility, like the howling of a wolf.


End file.
